


Too hot, Hot damn.

by IceBreeze



Category: Sweet/Vicious (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 13:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10278989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceBreeze/pseuds/IceBreeze
Summary: “Okay maybe batman didn’t have superpowers, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better with superpowers. You know, we could be like- like” you paused, taking a sip of your beer, “like vigilante supremos.”“Again with the batman?”“Hey, batman is great. And you’re not one to talk, miss I-work-alone.”(OR several years into their marital bliss, Jules and Ophelia wake up to find themselves with superpowers).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I tried, @reytrashqueen, I tried.

It started with the smell of burning. The smoke made you cough, waking you up, but after a moments grogginess you dismissed it with a groan (you’d probably accidentally left the weed burning last night. It’d happened before and was never much of a problem). You rolled over, curling closer to Jules, your face resting against her hair when you realised that, for some reason, your face was warm. Like really warm, and the smoke seemed to be thicker now, the smell stronger.

_(Why you’d almost think it was right next to you)._

Your eyes snapped open to find yourself looking fire in the eye. You shrieked, falling backwards in an attempt to get away from the flames even as you processed what you were seeing. Horror was the predominant emotion in you as Jules stirred, lifting a hand to her head as she pushed herself up, yawning, “Wha’s wrong?”

By this point you were full on freaking out, so you felt you were justified in shouting at her:

“Babe, your hair is on fire!”

“What?”

_“Your hair is on fire!”_

Her hand froze on her head, eyes widening as she stared at you like you’d said she’d grown a second head, before she jumped from the bed and ran to a mirror. You stumbled out to follow her, barely catching up in time to witness her scream as she confirmed that yes, her hair was indeed on fire, and yes _, she was on fucking fire._ You were still kind of freaking out over the fact that she’d somehow burst into flames during the night, but she had different priorities:

“Why is it not burning me? _Why is it not burning me?”_

 “I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t stick your hand into a naked flame!”

“It’s on my head, what difference does my hand make?!”

“Your head is on fucking fire, I don’t think that’s something to speculate about!”

 “Then don’t just stand there and _do something_!”

By this point you were both shouting, your neighbours were shouting and the flames had steadily spread to Jules’ arms, encouraged along by her frantic movements. She didn’t seem in any pain but the fire was definitely real fire- the burning kind, not some sort of illusion- and the smoke alarm was about to go off any minute now and you were both freaking the fuck out. Nothing made sense at this point and you didn’t know what to do (no-one had ever taught you how to react to your wife becoming a walking talking candle) but you had to do something. So you did the first thing that came to mind- throw the water jug over her. At the exact same moment Harris decided it would be a great idea to see what all the fuss was about.

“Dude what’s all the shouting abou-”

His voice trailed off as he came to a stop in the doorway, eyebrows rising to his hairline as he took in the scene before him: you, still in your underwear, hair all over the place, an empty jug in your hands. Jules, dripping wet, clothes singed. The smell of smoke filling the room. The bedsheets that had ended up on the floor in your panic. His mouth snapped shut with a click. He breathed in heavily, shaking his head as he turned on his heels and walked back out the door, muttering under his breath.

When the door clicked shut behind him you and Jules remained frozen for several minutes, before Jules finally breathed:

“What the heck?”

_(A question you never did get the answer to)._

* * *

 

After a few days of no repeat occurances the two of you had filed the hair-burning-incident under ‘freaky shit’ and dismissed it as a one off. And for a while, it was- Jules didn’t randomly burst into flames at any point, so there wasn’t any need to worry about it. But then life decided that you needed to match, because you found yourself graced some freaky shit of your own.

_(Granted, it was less dramatic than waking up to find your hair on fire, but still. Freaky shit)._

You were in the middle of hacking the police database, searching their files to find out what they had on the pair of you, when there was a tingle in your arm. You hissed, shaking it off as static, when everything in the apartment suddenly decided to short out. Everything. You hadn’t thought much of it until you went to try and fix it; the moment your arm touched the wires the electricity seemed to gravitate up your arm, hanging there in all its glowing glory for a moment. And then the computer exploded.

You jumped, more than a little unnerved, and Jules came running into the room, looking like she was ready to fight someone. Her eyes scanned the room for a threat before they landed on you and she froze. She stared at the electricity just hanging out on your arm like it was no big deal without blinking, before slowly dragging her eyes over to the destroyed computer. She opened her mouth and then shut it again, looking back at you with something akin to despair in her eyes and you felt she had never mirrored your feelings as much as she did in that moment.

She groaned, “Oh rats,” and you felt that really summarised the situation.

* * *

 

After the computer incident, the two of you reluctantly agreed that these probably weren’t a one off thing, but still had no better idea as to the why and the how. It also didn’t change the fact that both of you appeared to be very volatile and, somehow, you didn’t think blowing up in public would work out well for either of you.

_(Not drawing attention to yourself was not one of your strengths)._

So the two of you decided to confine yourselves to house arrest for a few days, until you’d figured out what exactly was happening and if you could control it. It was a stressful few days, with both of you having little access to things that you both used as parts of your daily lives (Jules couldn’t go on runs or beat the shit out of people whilst you weren’t allowed near electronics and alcohol). It didn’t help that the constant stress of the whole walking-talking-lighter-thing was really taking its toll on Jules and she was more enthusiastic in terms of training because fighting was her go-to relief. Which wasn’t good for you, because you always came out of training bruised and sore.

_(You loved her but boy, she had no mercy when it came to fighting)._

Not that you were any better- you were fine without the drugs, but the technology, oh the _technology._ You couldn’t touch anything electronic without accidentally short circuiting it or something, so you had to pass the time without being able to do your thing and it was driving you crazy. You had literally never been so bored in your life, it was reaching the point where you were actually willing to study just so you had something to do.

_(How could they expect you to live without being able to do your stuff? Without a computer? What were you, a caveman?)_

Harris’ visits were pretty much the only thing that kept you both sane, as he always brought something to distract you so you could forget it all for a while and just enjoy yourselves. He was also the only reason you didn’t starve and helped give Jules another victim to train (he hated fighting but let her train him for self-defence. You would forever laugh at his face when he first saw how strong she was, it was a masterpiece).

You had suspicions as to what was happening but it wasn’t until one final incident that will be forever buried (it involved sex and a forever ruined bed, that’s all anyone needs to know) that put the final nail in the coffin. It left the both of you shaken and in need of a drink- even Jules, who was the poster girl for sobriety most of the time. So that was how you ended up sitting on the floor, bottles and cans surrounding you as you discussed these newfound powers. Or, more importantly, what to do with them. You were a firm opportunist and advocated that the only solution was to abuse the fuck out of them. Jules was more sceptical. But you were always a persuasive person and this was no different.

 “Okay maybe batman didn’t have superpowers, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better with superpowers. You know, we could be like- like” you paused, taking a sip of your beer, “like vigilante supremos.”

“Again with the batman?”

“Hey, batman is great. And you’re not one to talk, miss I-work-alone.”

She snorted, “Okay, fair point. But superpowers? In our line of work? Wouldn’t that be overkill?”

“Well, what can I say? I do like my dickwads extra toasted.” She laughed again and you grinned, something warm settling in your stomach,”Besides, it’s not like it’s any less intense than a knife and your fists.”

She rolled her eyes, swallowing half her cider in one gulp, but she couldn’t hide the smile and, in that moment, you knew you’d won.

_(And if she kissed the smirk from your face later then hey, who were you to complain?)_

* * *

 

It took another month for the pair of you to gain enough control of your powers to even consider going outside, let alone take a mission. Another week after that and you felt cautiously confident enough to choose a target (there’d been no phones destroyed or fire sneezes for a while, so you must be getting better). He was a real douchebag who’d drugged and assaulted free people in the span of a week and, after some preparation, you were ready to ruin him.

It’d felt like nothing could go wrong, which was probably why it fell apart quicker than you could say ‘fuck.’ After all, your luck had often been shitty and this was no exception. When you went into the abandoned parking lot to confront him (read: beat the shit out of), he had- apparently- been expecting you, because he wasn’t alone. He had friends- and by friends you mean six feet tall jackasses who probably escaped from jail at some point in their lives. So he wasn’t exactly intimidated by either of you.

_(Totally not bringing a gun to a knife fight at all)._

Equally unsurprising but no less distressing was the fact that you were quickly overpowered because, you know, 3 v 1 was never gonna work out well for you. Plus you still weren’t as good at hand-to-hand as Jules was. Jules, on the other hand, didn’t have that trouble, as she took down the two who went after her fairly quickly. Which was awesome and you would totally have crowed over it,  but you were a little preoccupied with things. Like the knife against your throat and the knee digging into your spine with far more pressure than should ever be applied there. You felt a little bit like they were going to try and snap you like a twig before even trying for blood.

_(Harris would never let you live this down. That is, if you lived in the first place. Last you checked, spinal injuries were kind of fatal)._

The guy standing over you grinned viciously, making a movement with his hand that made your stomach lurch as the age old urge to puke decided to make its timely reappearance (you really wished you could take your mask off because puking with it on would not be fun). The knife dug harder and at that moment Jules spun around, noticing your predicament at last. Her eyes widened with horror, blood draining from the small window of skin visible on her face as she let out a half-strangled yell. The voice changer combined with the utter rage (fear) resulted in a sound that felt faintly demonic and you would have laughed but the pressure on your throat made anything like that impossible. She began to run towards you but it seemed to be in slow mo because she was too far, still too far, the knife was cutting through your clothing and into your skin, blood welling up alongside pain, pain, _pain-_

And then the knife guy stumbled away from you with a cry, clawing at his face. You tilted your head slightly to see that his face was on fire, flames having burst from nothing. He tried to smother them but his movements just made them grow until they were on his arms and his chest, his cries growing more and more panicked every passing second. The hold on you slackened as the other guy was distracted and you made to twist, to take them by surprise whilst they were focused on the light show, but Jules got there first. They didn’t even have a moment to understand the situation before Jules was on them, driving a punch into the original targets face, sending him reeling backwards. She didn’t give him a moments pause before punching him again, finished up by a kick to the balls. He crumbled to the floor and then the areas she’d hit burst into flames. He screamed, rolling around to try and put them out, but it was futile. Every movement he made caused them to spread and spread until he was little more than a screaming fireball in the parking lot.

When she turned on the final guy- the one who held a grudge against your spine- her glare could have melted iron, like she was channelling hell itself. You were struggling to breathe and this time, it wasn’t because of pain. Either the guy shared your sentiment or it had melted what little backbone he had because he practically fell over himself to back away, apologies and pleas spilling from his mouth in the desperate stream of a man faced by death, but it was too little too late. Jules punched him in the gut, sending him crumpling to the floor, and then broke his nose before he too went up like gasoline.

 For a moment you just lay there, struggling to breathe and to calm your shaking as the world burned around you, before Jules was crowding over you, frantically checking you for injuries and whether you were still alive. You think she would have probably done first aid right there and then but the sound of police sirens made their presence known and escaping was moved to top priority. Jules hissed before lifting you up (and okay, oh wow. That was a thing. That was a _thing_ ) and draping you over her shoulder, where you remained until she’d closed the apartment door behind you. Once you were no longer in danger of discovery she proceeded to slap on bandages and disinfectant, asking a dozen or so questions at a time. The fire was still flickering around her, burning harmlessly as she fussed over you, and you sat there dazed for a while before cutting her off to say:

“Is it weird if I say I found that really hot? I mean, you’re smoking right now dude, oh wow.”

Jules just froze there, staring at you. her hair blown back from her face, lips parted in surprise. The remnants of the fire lit her face up in a way that seemed almost ethereal and you wondered if she’d had a shutdown, when her eyes crinkled as she let out a sudden breath. And then she slapped a hand over her mouth and laughed, the sound setting your veins alight like electricity, her eyes warm as they met yours. She looked beautiful in that moment, vibrant and alive in the way she was after a successful hit, when she was running off the adrenaline high, and you realised, once again, just how fucked you were.

_(She was the sun to you- everything warm and bright and wonderful in life, and yet dangerous at the same time. Life without her wasn’t a life you wanted and that- that was something that terrified you, at times._

_Sometimes you felt like Icarus, a fool who strayed too close to something they can’t ever match. And yet, you loved her more than anything in the world)._

* * *

 

The second hit went better than the first (no injuries, no blindsiding), and so you moved onto the third and the sixth and soon you were both going at it like you’d never stopped. After a few tries you began to use your whole superpower thing to help, adding them into the arsenal of weapons you liked to carry around with you. You fell into a routine, a familiarity- Jules would be the brute attack power, go in fists blazing, unnerve them by bringing on the heat from the start. You were the sneakier one, the back-up- you’d electrocute them when they were distracted, punch them only to turn up the volts at the last second, leave them too terrified to come near you because they didn’t know what you could do.

_(“Welp. I think we just redefined badass.”)_

And, with time, the fights became easier as a result of it. The number of injuries decreased and you were able to dispatch them in less time because they felt weaker to you no- the advantage in size and muscle mass no longer such a problem. As such, you began to steamroll your way through the hit list, no longer suffering lags of several weeks before you were able to take a request.

People began to take notice (cause that kind of speed was not normal), but it wasn’t until after one of your more public takedowns that the entire world was aware that sweet/vicious were taking things to the next level. (You’d think that it would be easier to keep flashy superpowers a secret but nope, it was not). And it was like a fuse had been lit. Rumours spread, the news fighting to gain more information on it, social media websites being run to the ground by theory after theory after theory. No two people agreed- some said you were blessed by a God, some said you were hell incarnate. Some said escaped government experiments, others said everything was fake. People fought for their theories, each getting wilder than the last, all whilst you and Jules sat there and laughed.

_(Your new favourite activity was to curl up on the couch as a team and laugh at all the conspiracy theorists you could find, all while getting progressively drunker. A great bonding activity if you’d ever seen one)._

Conspiracies aside, you were gaining a reputation for being super powered and that was nothing but good for you. Yes because it was easier to beat the snot out of people who were terrified you might steal their soul, but it had other benefits- lots of them. For one, it gave your name a weight that was absent before- no longer were you just the faceless vigilantes, now you had power to back you up. People had feared you before, but not to the same extent- in the end punching people was merely punching; anyone could do it. It was something people understood- could counter and replicate. But fire? Electricity? Powers without an explanation or limit? That was what terrified them. That was what made you more than just a boogy man- it was something no-one else could do, no-one could counter. It was an anomaly, a nightmare.

_(You were an unknown)._

It made sweet/vicious a legend- not a nice one in the eyes of the law, but a legend nonetheless. And with infamy came results. Things that had been stagnant before began to move, spurred by the knowledge that there was a group who were willing and ready to take action. Wrongs were made right and people- the little people, the kind you fought for, the kind Jules had been, the kind you’d been- became more confident. Their fear began to fade, safe in the knowledge that there were people on their side. The number of sexual assaults went down every year, the people punished for it went up. Justice was taken for the victims, the legal system no longer treating it as a joke, and throughout it all the name sweet/vicious was on everybody’s lips.

Things were changing- for the better, this time. They were moving faster than either of you had expected, you were changing (your nightmares decreased, you no longer flinched at the sound of a bone breaking, you smoked less and less)- and yet one thing remained the same. There was always one thing you could trust in, could rely on- you and Jules, Jules and you. Your relationship was a constant, a rock, a home, and nothing- not even superpowers- could change that.

_(The world had cast you both aside, declared you imperfect. Once they had spat in your faces, but now the jokes on them. You were perfection, together, and you were here to stay._

_‘Til death do you part)._

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on my[ tumblr, polyhymina.](http://polyhymina.tumblr.com/tagged/my-writings)


End file.
